Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

By Patricia Eimer

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead by Patricia Eimer

Not Even Death Can Keep a Good Demoness Down

There's never an end to the crazy when you're demon spawn. Not that Faith Bettincourt's complaining. She's been patching things up with her angelic on-again off-again boyfriend, Matt, and her best-friend-turned-sister-in-law is soon giving birth to the Anti-Christ Part Deux. Oh, and Faith is saving kids from Death in her pediatric unit, one soul at a time. Life is good.

Or at least it is until Faith accidentally runs over the Angel of Death and is forced to take his place. Now she's taking lives instead of saving them. This is kind of a problem when you're a nurse. As if that weren't bad enough, she is suddenly thrust into the worst scenario of them all–Matt's ex is back, and she's brought the Apocalypse with her.

Faith's not about to give up the world...or her man. But when the chips are down, what's a girl to do but take matters in her own hands, consequences be damned?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Feb 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781622661183

Book preview

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other books by Patrica Eimer

Luck of the Devil

Devil May Care

Death Defying

Bittersweet Darkness

Mustang Sassy

Before the Devil

Knows You’re Dead

a Speak of the Devil novel

Patrica Eimer

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Patricia Eimer. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Edited by Candace Havens and Allison Blisard

Cover design by Libby Murphy

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-118-3

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition February 2014

To Max—the mischievous angel that makes our family complete.

Chapter One

A split second before the alarm in room 527 started to blare I found myself staring at the back of one of the world’s most annoying, know-it-all archangels. Michael, the Angel of Death. Instead of screaming for help, I took off at a dead run down the hall of the ICU, cussing under my breath about stupid celestial beings and my own aversion to cardio exercise.

Two other nurses bolted out of the rooms they were working in and ran from the other end of the hall while the attending physician on duty sprinted out of her office in front of me. I sidestepped her and hunched my shoulders to keep from running into her back as we all raced toward the horrible, shrieking wail of the alarm.

I snapped my fingers and time stopped around me. I needed a bit more time before I dealt with the medical personnel if I was going to keep six-year-old Hannah Stavlinski, otherwise known as the transplant patient in room 527, alive and out of the clutches of an archangel. So rather than deal with our attending I swung wide around her and mentally winced at the fact she had both feet off the ground, stopped in midrun.

Dr. Malan’s knees were going to hurt like a succubae after a busy night of soul collecting by the time she got off shift tomorrow morning. Long-term levitation was killer on the joints but that was so very much not my problem right now. I’d offer her a couple Tylenol for it later and call it a wash.

Step away from the ankle biter, Mike. I held my hand up like it was a handgun and I was some sort of strung out gangbanger trying to hold up a liquor store after too many rounds of first-person shooter games.

Faith. The Archangel stopped, his hand outstretched toward the girl, and looked at me, his icy-blue eyes sparkling as golden energy crackled in a halo around the blond hair curling around his face and caressing his chin. What are you doing here?

I work here, moron. I’m a pediatric nurse and this is a children’s hospital. The two sort of go together like fish and freshly baked bread.

I swung my finger over to point at the heart monitor that was blaring away next to the bed. I zapped the machine with a jolt of demonic power and it reset itself. The little girl in the bed jerked and the machine began to beep in a nice, steady—quiet—rhythm.

You’re supposed to be off tonight, Michael said his voice high and whiny. Two of the other reapers swore to me that you were off tonight. You don’t work Thursdays.

I’m covering for another nurse. She called in sick. So, what are you doing in my hospital?

Now, Faith, there’s no need to get touchy. You and I both know that this is a normal part of life. It’s nothing for you to get upset about.

Why are you on my ICU unit? I asked, my voice steady, ignoring his-- death is a normal part of life-- shtick. She doesn’t have a folder. A reaper would have come by to warn me if she had a folder.

She’s on the potentials list. Michael held up a light beige file folder and waved it at me. Hannah’s name was on it and her picture attached to the front for easy identification.

That means she might die, I said, but that folder is beige, not red. So, I repeat, more forcefully this time, why are you on my ICU?

Look. Michael stepped toward me, trying to angle himself between me and Hannah’s bed, and my finger shook as dark power raced down my arm. I lost a soul tonight. I’m one shy and trust me when I tell you that the AOD is not a tolerant guy when it comes to not meeting your quota. I need someone to make up the difference.

What happened? I asked, stunned that he had somehow managed to lose a soul. For all the television movies and books that talk about people being snatched from Death’s cold and greedy claws at the last moment, it very rarely happened. The reapers were very good at their jobs, and it was a rare soul that slipped through.

"Your sister-in-law pulled out a miracle on a pinch hit. Full cardiac arrest and she gives him a zap while the mortals are busy and the little bugger perks right up. My folder goes from bloodred to white like she’d dunked it into a vat of industrial strength bleach.

Heaven protect me from cranky ex-succubae, he said. She’s gotten worse since she’s gotten knocked up. You know that, right? She’s become completely irrational about things.

So?

So? Michael’s eyes bugged out and his face went purple. I looked inside the folder to see when I could recoup my loss. I figured your girl Lisa’s temper tantrum wouldn’t matter in the end because I’d be back to get the kid in a few months. I could tell the boss we’d put the kid on the back burner and it would be no big deal. Right?

No? My smile grew wider at his obvious distress.

No. Turns out the rug rat is going to live a full and happy life—a writer of children’s books if you can believe that. He’s going to go teach kindergarten and write books that will be praised for their lush and realistic artwork. I can’t come back to collect him for another ninety-seven years.

He paced in a tight circle, tugging at his hair as he stomped. He stopped, staring down at Hannah, and his hands dropped onto the metal bed rail, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

There’s no way I can pass that off as a minor technical glitch. The soul is lost, and I’m up for my quarter-century performance review.

So?

So? It’s bad enough that your uncle demoted me to running the angelic contingent of the Reaper Squads. If this review goes badly, Valentin could promote Daniel into my position and knock me down to running the Hospitaller subteam. I’d be middle management, Faith, the equivalent of a human shift manager at McDonalds.

Oh gee, I said and then laughed, making sure enough evil leaked out to let him know just how much I was enjoying his plight. I’d feel bad for you, but it seems to me that the world needs more writers of kid’s books with realistic artwork.

Faith, he said and dropped his hands back down to his sides, clenching his fists.

Besides, what does your miserable career progression have to do with my transplant patient? She’s six; she can’t tutor you in how to ask if someone would like fries with their mortal-coil shuffle.

Hah-hah, very funny. Now let’s be serious, she’s high on the potentials list. She’s got what? A day. Maybe two? Why make her suffer? You can turn your back and I’ll take her soul and everyone will be happy. I’ve met my quota, save my performance evaluation, and she’s in a better place. It’s a win-win situation. Right?

Not a chance. I pointed at his folder and gave it a solid jolt of demonic power.

The folder burst into blue-black flames and crumpled into a neat pile of ash. Oh look! No folder. You know what that means? No paperwork means no soul. Now go away, before I decide to keep zapping.

That was pointless. He crossed his arms over his slender, well-sculpted chest and glared at me. I’ll get another copy of her file, and then I’ll be back. If not today, then the day her status turns red. You can’t stop the inevitable, so why not give me the soul and save yourself the hassle?

No.

No? What do you mean no? Michael asked. I need that soul.

Too bad. I leaned forward, lifting up on my toes so that we were glaring directly into each other’s eyes, and then snaked my arms around his sides to grip the rails of her bed, penning him in between my arms. You can’t have her.

I know you’re protective of your patients. He put his hands up, knocking my arms away from his sides, and air quoted the word patients. Look at this from my perspective. I need to take that soul and meet my quota. If our positions were switched, I’d help you out.

No you wouldn’t, and there’s no way in Hell’s fiery lake that I’ll ever need your help. I do my best not to associate with parasites.

Parasite? I provide an essential service.

Yeah? So do dung beetles.

You know what? Michael spat, his eyes filled with disgust. Keep the brat if she means so much to you. I’ll come back and get her once the folder turns red, and I’ll make sure to do it on a day where you have to watch. Once she’s formally on my list there’s nothing you can do but stand there as I harvest the little twerp.

Really? I stepped forward and jammed my finger into his chest. It seems to me Lisa managed to stop you. I could do the same.

Her time has come. Let the child go. Let her find peace.

It’s not her time. I pictured the most remote, desolate island on Earth, a small spit of land near Antarctica covered in snow and surrounded by icy water, and did my best to make it seem real in my mind. A window in reality slid open behind Michael, opening on the coldest part of that very remote bit of nowhere.

What’s one day? Twenty-four measly hours? What does it mean in the end?

It’s everything. I lifted my hand up to his chest and gave him a solid jolt of dark power straight to the sternum.

The archangel in front of me burst into flames, and he let out a tortured scream as dark power licked along his chiseled jaw and his hair caught fire. He swung his hands up and started to beat at the flames around his halo, screaming at me in Latin the entire time. My ancient religious languages were pretty rusty but I was pretty sure that the words he was shrieking weren’t part of the Holy Catechism.

I gave him another push and then stepped back, watching him topple backward through the portal. There was a splash, and then another, sharper scream as he hit the icy water. He pushed himself up, headfirst out of the water, and I let the portal begin to shrink.

Hey, Michael, I said once the portal had shrunk to the size of a bowling ball. Stay out of my ICU. Or else.

You demonic slut, Michael screeched before a wave crested over his head and dunked him under the freezing water. His head broke water and he started to splutter, coughing up water as he tried to keep himself afloat. I’ll make you pay for this. You wait. I’m going to call your uncle and I’m going to—

Oh, please. I snapped my fingers and the portal slammed close with a sharp crack, trapping him on the other side.

You should have trapped him under an iceberg, Harold said, leaning over Hannah, checking her over. Or with a particularly horny narwhal. Those are the ones with the sharp swords on their snouts, right?

I think so. I came over to stand beside my favorite poltergeist pediatrician. How is she?

Fine. Vitals are stable. She seems to be responding to treatment. No signs of infection that I can see. My gut feeling is that she’s going to make it—potentials list or no potentials list.

Good. That will be something to tell her father when the poor man finally gets here.

What happened? Harold asked.

The army had a delay and he didn’t make it for the surgery since she was bumped up the list so quickly because of the compatible match. It’s good to know he’s not going to come all this way for bad news.

She’s not going anywhere, Harold said, and my shoulders slumped in relief. Harold was the best pediatrician I knew—alive or dead—if he said she was going to make it, then I was going to believe him.

I can’t believe you set the Archangel Michael on fire, Harold said. Not that he didn’t deserve to suffer a bit, but you know how long it takes an angel to recover from hellfire burns.

Yeah, blame the human part of me for that little show of demonic temper. I refuse to give up the belief life is sacred. Besides, she wasn’t on the dead list. I don’t care if I have to set an entire legion of angels on fire. I refuse to hand over one of these kids until I don’t have any other choice.

Stubborn to a fault, Nurse Bettincourt. Harold floated close enough that I could feel his shadow brushing against my shoulder as we stood staring down at the little girl in the bed.

Stubbornness is an integral part of being a demon. Did you hear what he said about Lisa? Zapping a patient during surgery to keep them alive isn’t just stubborn—it’s downright ballsy.

Yeah. Which means both of you girls did well tonight. I’m proud of you.

Thanks. A warm rush of pride flooded my chest. I knew I was a good nurse, but it sure didn’t hurt to hear someone else say it on occasion.

I’ve only got one complaint. The next time you girls decide to go all superhero could you please warn me ahead of time? Do you know how much I would have loved to get that on video?

Really?

The other doctors on the ghost golf circuit would have paid good money to watch you set the Archangel Michael on fire—especially when you toppled him into the water afterward. Where was that? Alaska?

Fifty miles east of Antarctica.

Nice. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, his fingers sliding through my skin and making me shiver.

Now, what are you going to do about Dr. Freckles and her two sidekicks? He nodded toward the door and I, suddenly remembered everyone else outside of the room.

Play dumb?

That’s only going to work a few times on that one. She’s young but she’s pretty clever. She’s got that ‘sense’ if you know what I mean.

You don’t think she’s been warned by Dr. Lee, do you? I asked, thinking about the tiny pediatric oncologist who frequently gave me sideways glances.

Nah. Bai has agreed to keep her mouth shut about us but I think Dr. Malan is a bit more tuned in than she realizes. Throw a confusion spell on her and you should be fine. Her sight isn’t nearly as strong as Bai’s. We can keep her clueless for a while longer yet.

Right. Good. I snapped my fingers and time began again. Dr. Malan rushed into the room, the nurses hot on her heels.

She slid to a stop and looked first at the quiet monitor and then at the patient. She looked over at me, then through Harold at the monitor, and then back at the patient, her jaw working the whole time.

Is something wrong, Doc? I raised an eyebrow while I wiggled my fingers to cast a quick cloud of confusion across all of them so they wouldn’t decide to start trying to figure out how I’d gotten here before them.

What happened to the alarm? Dr. Malan asked. I heard the alarm and came running.

The alarm? I asked, trying to keep my voice even. The alarm for this room?

Didn’t it go off? Confusion and doubt filled her eyes.

No. The alarm in here didn’t go off. Everything in here is fine. I’ve been in here for a few minutes doing treatments. I was working toward Leslie and Kim so that I could tell them to go on break. Why? Did you hear an alarm?

I could have sworn… Dr. Malan looked from me to the alarms again, her mouth hanging open. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then flinched as she tried to move her weight off back off her right knee. She turned to Leslie and Kim standing behind her. Tell me you two heard the alarm?

No, Doc, Leslie said her voice full of conviction. We saw you running and followed.

I don’t know what to say. Dr. Malan ran a hand up over her face. I know the alarm was going off.

I gave her my most reassuring smile. It’s late, it’s quiet, and you probably dozed off for a second and dreamed you heard one of the alarms going off.

You think? she asked, sounding skeptical.

I do it all the time on my days off, I said and both Kim and Leslie nodded in agreement. I’m sound asleep and then all of a sudden I dream that I can hear an alarm or a call light. Next thing I know I’m wide awake and half out of bed before I realize that I’m home in my jammies and not here on the ward. It’s part of the job. You’ll get used to it over time.

She shifted again and then winced. I guess, but man do I feel stupid right now. Running after phantom alarms and scaring all three of you.

Don’t worry about it, I said and felt my shoulders relax. She was going to let this go easier than I expected. Hey, Doc, are you feeling okay? You keep grimacing.

I think I banged my knee against my desk when I decided to go on a mad dash down the hall. I’ll probably have one heck of a bruise by the time we go off shift.

Ouch. I wrinkled my nose at her and pretended to be sympathetic instead of relieved at how easily she was letting this all go. Why don’t you take a minute off the hall and take a breather? Go grab a bottle of water or some coffee. We’ll be fine up here.

You’re sure? she asked.

Go, take Kim and Leslie with you. All of you could use a few minutes of peace. Bring me back a Mountain Dew. I’ve got some money stashed in the nurses’ station.

Don’t worry about it. Dr. Malan shoved her hands in her lab coat pockets. I think after all this excitement I can buy everyone some caffeine.

I watched the three of them make their way to the stairwell and sighed as they left the hall. The last thing I needed was someone catching on to the fact that patients tended to die less when I was on shift than they did otherwise. Medical people were always a superstitious lot and the last thing I wanted to bring attention to was the fact that Satan’s youngest daughter was a charge nurse on the pediatric-intensive-care unit. People tended to get touchy about those sorts of things.

You know we wouldn’t have this much excitement if you’d have gone to secretarial school, another, deeper voice said from behind my shoulder. My bodyguard floated next to me in his three-foot grim reaper costume rather than his human form.

Come on, Mal, I thought you liked all this excitement?

Yeah, well, I knew typing wasn’t your strong suit. Now, how long until you’re off shift and we can go get some decent coffee?

About four hours.

Four hours? Your cousin Christ on a cracker that’s a long time. I’m going to try to find some late-nite porn on the visitor’s lounge television to stay awake.

Hey! I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. We’ve got kids in here.

It’s the middle of the night, Malachi retorted as he floated off. They should all be asleep, genius. That’s why they put porn on late-night TV.

Hey, Mal?

My personal demon stopped then slowly spun to face me.

That thing with Michael tonight…

What about it? he asked.

You don’t think it’s weird that he tried to show up and poach someone who wasn’t on the list, do you?

Faith, he’s a reaper. Everything they do is weird. Don’t let him get to you.

Do you—

They all get a little crazier than normal around review time. Malachi shrugged his tiny shoulders toward where his ears should have been. Don’t worry about it. It’s Michael being his usual idiotic self.

Chapter Two

I’m going to murder your brother, Lisa said and then let out a weak moan before the unmistakable sound of her vomiting sounded inside the bathroom stall at Churresco’s Coffee. Then I’m going to have Matt and your cousin resurrect him, and I’m going to kill him again. Over and over again.

There may be some flaws in your logic. I leaned back against the light green walls of the ladies’ room and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Ugh. I looked like I’d been dragged through Hell by my dad’s two favorite hounds—Fluffy and Mortimer.

The light

Reviews for Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

[stacyatufi · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Book 3 has more action than the first two books combined.Everything that has been stewing comes to a head and no one is left unaffected. After a crazy accident Faith becomes the new Angel of Death. As everyone scrambles to figure a way for her to get out of it, another is intent on taking it away from her at all costs. You would think that would be good thing but this person wants it for pure evil. Faith has a pretty unique life, she thinks she wants her relationships with people to be normal but when she gets normal all she can think about is getting back to the way things were. All you Matt and Faith fans will be happy with the way things develop in BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOUR DEAD. Faith and her family are a hoot. They give you plenty of chances to laugh with and at them. They love each other, their really close and it shows. Most of book 3 does end up being pretty series but they still find chances to insert their special brand of humor.The Speak of the Devil series has been a crazy ride that I have enjoyed from the first chapter of the first book. Wish it wasn't over but I enjoyed the way it ended. Start from book 1 and enjoy the roller coaster!* This book was provided free of charge from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[katsmiao · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Book 3 in a series and I haven't read the first 2, so overall I rate this Meh.

Too many characters, it was too confusing trying to keep track of who is who or did what. Great writing, witty and very enjoyable to read. Fast paced, but too much so. With the amount of characters to keep track of, the plot moves too fast from one thing to another, so you feel breathless like you're running a marathon, but also always feel like you are behind the bulk of the runners, and never catch up.

I highly recommend starting with book 1, otherwise you'll be as lost as I was.